


A Wolf Among Thieves

by Nopride4531



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Abandonment, Angst, Companions, Companions Questline, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Everyone Has Issues, F/M, Fate & Destiny, Hurt/Comfort, I'll put warnings up for it, Lies & Deceit, Running Away, Slow Burn, Thieves Guild, Thieves Guild Questline, True Love, Werewolves, With A Twist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-05-24 06:13:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14949105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nopride4531/pseuds/Nopride4531
Summary: Colrina Darette is a guarded woman. Betrayed by the Companions and the man she loved, she flees Whiterun and makes her way to Riften, vowing to never trust anyone again. But then she meets Brynjolf, who knocks down every wall she ever built. Slowly, Colrina starts to make a home for herself in the Thieves Guild... and with Brynjolf. But with the Companions hunting her and problems within the Guild itself, it's only a matter of time before things fall apart.





	1. In the Dead of Night

“You made it, my thane,” Lydia said as Colrina approached the gates to Riften. The housecarl leaned against a post by the stables, a relieved smile on her lips. “I was beginning to fear the worst.”

Colrina dismounted her weathered old mare with a heavy sigh. “The road wasn’t an easy one. Bandits took over Helgen and gave me some trouble.” She lifted her arm to reveal a tear in her leather armor and a gash that stretched a good four inches. “Dwarven metal cuts deep.”

“I should’ve traveled with you.” Lydia pushed off the post and went to inspect the wound.

Colrina shook her head and gently brushed her housecarl aside. Touching as the display of concern was, they had bigger problems. “No. Traveling together would’ve attracted too much attention. I needed to slip away unnoticed.”

Lydia reluctantly nodded. “And did you? Any of them see you?”

“I don’t think so.” Colrina rolled her shoulders back, wincing at the pull on her wound. “Brenuin knew all the back roads in Whiterun.” She sighed again. “I just hope he keeps this between us.”

“Did you tell him where you were going?”

“No.”

Lydia, apparently satisfied with that answer, motioned for Colrina to follow her. “Good,” she said as she started for the city gates. “Come, my thane. We should head inside. Divines only know what lurks in the Rift this time of night.”

Colrina carefully grabbed her housecarl’s arm and stopped her. “Lydia,” she murmured, “you can’t call me ‘my thane’ anymore. If word gets out that I’m here…” She lowered her eyes. “Just call me Col.”

Nodding her understanding, Lydia led the way to Riften’s entrance. A lone guard stood at his post, expression hidden behind his helmet. But Colrina saw his eyes all-too-easily… and they spoke of his greed. The way they took in her and Lydia’s appearance, how he subtly shifted his stance until he was blocking their way—oh yes; he would give them trouble, no doubt about it.

Squaring her shoulders, Colrina tried not to look too exhausted. “Let us through.”

The guard gave no sign that he was going to comply. “Before I let you into Riften,” he said in the thick accent of most Nords, “you’ll have to pay the visitor’s tax.”

Lydia opened her mouth to say something, but Colrina held up a gloved hand and stopped her. Neither of them were in any mood for trickery, but Colrina had been riding since dawn and scarcely eaten a thing. If it came to it, she would gladly hold a dagger to the guard’s throat. Hopefully, she could avoid that by calling his bluff.

“I think you know as well as anyone that there’s no tax,” she hissed. A threatening step forward had the guard staggering a step back. “So let us through and I won’t scream ‘thief.’”

He regarded her warily before his shoulders slumped. “Alright, keep your voice down,” he muttered. “I’ll let you in. Just let me unlock the gate.”

* * *

Riften was a cesspool of crime, but it was far from Whiterun and a perfect place to hide. But at the moment, all Colrina cared about was a warm bed and some warm food. Not that she had enough gold to cover anything but a room and some bread and cheese. Between her and Lydia, they scarcely had fifty gold. Colrina had spent the majority of hers on that old mare.

She sighed as she and Lydia headed toward the inn. The poor beast would need to be put out of its misery; the journey had taken too much of a toll.

The inn was modest enough. It certainly wasn’t Solitude, but it would do for the night. An Argonian was the barkeep, and she seemed a little rough, but like she kept a fair inn with fair prices.

“Get us a room,” Colrina told Lydia, “and some supper. I’m starving.”

She handed her housecarl the remainder of her gold, then went to the back wall to wait. As she approached, a man—dressed in the finest clothes Riften had to offer—regarded her carefully. Colrina nodded at him. A quick flick of her eyes told her he was unarmed, but that meant little to her. Plenty of damage could be done while unarmed.

“Running a little low on gold, are you lass?” He asked when she leaned against the wall.

Colrina frowned and snapped her head around to look at him. “What?”

“Your pockets. They’re low on coin.”

“No.” She tried not to think about how empty they truly were. “And whatever you’re about to offer, I don’t want it.”

The man, who had a shock of red hair, smiled. “You’ve got me all wrong, lass. I wasn’t about to offer charity… I was about to offer a job.”

Colrina couldn’t hide her curiosity, much to her chagrin. “What did you have in mind?”

He quickly explained his scheme, as well as mentioned his name: Brynjolf. All the while, she felt her anxiety growing. On one hand she needed the gold, but on the other, what he was suggesting was just wrong. It was like stealing from a beggar.

“Let me see if I’ve got this right.” Colrina said as she placed a hand on her hip and turned to face him completely. “You want me to steal from somebody who can barely make ends meet, and put someone else out of business?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

The man—Brynjolf—shrugged and leaned against the tavern wall. His eyes, a calculating green, met her glare fearlessly.

“Suit yourself, Lass,” he said. “But if I were you, I’d reconsider. Work that pays this well is hard to come by in Riften. And I’d say you need the coin.”

Colrina took half a step back, feeling her fury soar. “How could you _possibly_ know that?” She demanded, knowing there was no sense in lying again; he would obviously see through it.

A smirk crossed Brynjolf’s lips, and he shrugged again. “I have a knack for this sort of thing.” His eyes flashed in the dim candlelight. “And I think you do, too. You just don’t listen to it.”

“I’m not a thief.” Colrina started to turn away. She thought of the Companions, of the gold she’d lifted from Jorrvaskr before she’d fled. She sighed. “And I just want to be left alone.”

Understanding briefly flew across Brynjolf’s face before he apparently regained control. Pushing away from the wall, he began walking toward the exit. “Well, if you change your mind,” he called over his shoulder, “I’ll be in the market tomorrow morning.”

And with that, he went outside, leaving Colrina to ponder his offer for the rest of the night.


	2. Gold is Where the Heart Lies

Colrina scarcely slept that night, despite being exhausted. Something about the way the walls and roof of the tavern creaked reminded her too much of Jorrvaskr, of the ancient wood that never sat still. She lay awake all night, staring at the ceiling, thinking of the Companions and what they did to her. Part of her wondered if she shouldn't have run. It certainly seemed like the coward's way out. But she hadn't had much of a choice. And now they were after her, chasing her down like a dog. Them and the Silver Hand. 

She rolled over on to her side. Lydia slept soundly on the floor, furs pulled over her shoulders as makeshift blankets. Sighing, Colrina sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, standing not a moment later. Carefully stepping over her housecarl, she tiptoed to the door and silently left the room. Judging by the light outside the windows, dawn was just beginning to break. So she'd survived another night. It certainly didn't feel like it. She was still exhausted, and felt more like death than anything else. 

Downstairs, the Bee and Barb was more or less deserted. Most of the patrons had either gone to their rooms or back to their homes. It was just as well; Colrina didn't feel like talking to anyone who couldn't offer her a warm meal and a cold drink. Not that she could afford both of those things. The last time she'd checked her coinpurse, she'd only had ten septims. If she was lucky, she might be able to afford a piece of bread—but that was all. 

As Colrina approached the counter, the Argonian innkeeper, Keerava if she remembered correctly, looked up from the mug she was cleaning. Colrina smiled tiredly and sat down on a stool. Keerava eyed her warily for a moment before deciding she wasn't trouble and returning to her mug.

"How much for some bread and cheese?" Colrina asked, drumming her fingers on the counter. 

The Argonian pressed her lips together in thought. "Fifteen gold," she eventually said. "Twenty-two if you want a bottle of mead to go with it."

Colrina's heart sank. So much for a meal, crude as it may have been. She sighed and turned away from the counter, hiding her disappointed face from Keerava. "I'll come back later."

There was no sense in staying in the Bee and Barb any longer. Colrina thought about returning upstairs, waking Lydia, and trying their luck in a different city, but that wouldn't work. They had little-to-no Septims to their names. Not to mention Colrina's old mare wouldn't make a journey to Shor's Stone, let alone anything further. The poor beast was probably close to her grave already. 

Sighing, Colrina walked out of the Bee and Barb and headed for the front gate. If there was one thing she could do, it was put the mare out of her misery. She'd grown lame on the journey to Riften, and there was no way to bring her around at such an old age. Colrina didn't have a greatsword or battleaxe or anything large enough for one clean blow. Her Skyforge steel sword through the heart would have to suffice. 

If she could even do  _that._ She'd forgotten to clean and dress her wound last night, and it stung something fierce. Hopefully, infection wasn't setting in and would stay that way until she could find a healing potion, but judging by the puss oozing from the gash, she was out of luck. She sighed. The wound was only going to get worse. If she didn't find some help and find it fast...

She shook her head, warding off the thought.  _One thing at a time, Col._   _One thing at a time._

The Nord who ran the stables was leaning against a post when Colrina approached. Her mare was right where she'd left her, munching on some alfalfa. Colrina walked over to her and gently stroked her face, leaning her forehead against it a second later. Tears stung her eyes. Although she hadn't spent too much time with the horse, Colrina still felt a connection to her. The tough old beast had gotten them out of Whiterun, carried them through Haemar's Pass, and made it all the way through the Rift. And she didn't even have a name.

With a deep breath, Colrina stepped away and placed her hand on the hilt of her sword. She struggled to draw it. Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes against her will. Feeling the Nord stable keep's eyes on her, she pulled her blade out of its sheath. And as she raised it, as she took another shuddering breath, the pull on her wound nearly too much to handle, a deep voice said:

"That blade won't do."

Colrina lowered her sword and turned to the Nord. He was eyeing the mare sadly and for the first time, Colrina noticed a greatsword leaning against another stall. She sheathed her blade and stood up a little straighter.

"Yours will," she said, motioning with her head toward the greatsword. "Can you do it?"

The Nord nodded. "Aye."

"How much?" Colrina dug into her pocket for the remainder of her gold. When she finally grabbed every last coin, she held it out to him. "This is all I have."

He took the pile of Septims and started walking toward his blade. "You should head back inside," he called over his shoulder, and Colrina tried not to shudder at what came next: "I don't think you'll want to see this."

* * *

The sun was a little higher in the sky by the time she made her way to Riften's market. The business with the mare had been well-worth the last of her gold. Considering all the beast had done, it was only fair that she receive a good, clean, quick death. Nevertheless, Colrina couldn't help the few tears that strayed from her eyes. Perhaps one day, she could buy herself another horse—and give it a proper name. But that day was likely far away, considering her lack of gold. 

Tucking a strand of brown hair back into her braid, she browsed the market stalls without a Septim to her name. The jeweler had a few nice pieces, but Colrina wasn't really looking to adorn herself. What she wanted was food. As if on cue, her stomach growled, and she quickly walked away from the jewelry stall, not wanting anyone to hear. She didn't watch where she went, and before she knew it, she was walking straight toward Brynjolf. 

He looked up from his assortment of potions and locked eyes with her. Colrina considered turning around and quietly retreating back to the Bee and Barb, but there was no sense in going back to a room she could no longer afford. Steeling herself, she adjusted the strap on her leather bracer and walked to Brynjolf's stall. He smiled at her as she approached, all charm. 

"Reconsider my offer?" He asked. "Or did you want to buy something?" 

Colrina warily eyed the bottles of whatever it was he was trying to sell. She reached for one and grabbed it by its neck, uncorking it and sniffing the liquid inside. "You're honestly trying to sell water with a bit of crushed nirnroot?" She shook her head and put the bottle back. "So you're a piss-poor salesman  _and_ a thief?" Another head-shake. "I suppose the two go hand in hand."

To give him credit, Brynjolf covered his surprise relatively quickly, but not quick enough for Colrina to miss it. "How did you know about the nirnroot?" He questioned in a low voice, and Colrina gave him half of a shrug.

"I studied alchemy once upon a time," she dismissed. "And listen: if you want to sell more of these things, add in a little lavender. It'll make it smell better and make a potion of resist magic."  

He nodded and gave her a pointed look. "You still didn't answer my question, Lass. Have you reconsidered my offer?" 

Sighing, Colrina placed a hand on her hip and gave the barest shake of her head. Stealing from Brand-Shei, who obviously could barely afford to make ends meet, was still wrong in her mind. "No," she said carefully, "but I have a better idea." 

"Oh really?" Brynjolf raised a brow and smirked. "And what might that be?"

Colrina's lips twitched as she leaned toward him to half-whisper: "Steal from someone who actually deserves it."

This time, he couldn't hide the surprise on his face, nor the confusion. But the glint in his eyes told her he was at least willing to listen to her plan, which was all she needed. 

"You cause a distraction," she began, already working out the details in her mind, "and I'll rob Grelka blind. Split the gold with you fifty-fifty."

Apparently, Brynjolf was also familiar with Grelka's attitude, for he smiled and tipped his chin. "You've got yourself a deal, Lass."

They set to work relatively quickly after that. Brynjolf, though his product was a complete fake, sold it well—and, more importantly, caused one brilliant distraction. Every shopkeeper immediately dropped what they were doing to gather around his stall. Colrina took the opportunity to sneak over to Grelka's strongbox. Breaking into it wasn't a problem, but avoiding the guards gave her a bit of trouble. One of them refused to move from his post, apparently unmoved by Brynjolf's scheme. Nevertheless, Colrina managed to clean out the valuables without being seen. 

She emerged on the other side of the wall surrounding the marketplace. Catching Brynjolf's eye, she gave a slight nod—a small signal, but a signal nonetheless. He closed the distraction, much to the chagrin of the potential buyers, and Colrina walked back over to his stall.

"There wasn't a lot of gold," she said, "but there was an amethyst. You take that, I take the gold?"

Brynjolf smiled and swiped the amethyst from her palm. "Deal," he murmured as he pocketed it. "Judging by how well you pulled off this job, I'd like to extend an offer."

Colrina frowned. "An offer for what?"

Another smile. And then: "To join the Thieves Guild, Lass."  

She mentally reeled back. Stealing from someone once was one thing, but joining an entire guild because of it? She thought of the Companions, of what they would think if they could see her now, and sighed. There was no honor in this trade, but dammit, she needed the gold. Honor wouldn't put food in her stomach nor give her a place to stay... and it certainly wouldn't take back everything that had happened to her. 

"Give me some time to think about it," she eventually managed, reluctantly raising her eyes to meet Brynjolf's. "I need to take care of some things first."

He nodded his understanding. "Come find me when you've made your choice. I'll be beneath the Ratway in a tavern called the Ragged Flagon." He winked at her. "Get there in one piece, and we'll discuss everything further."

Colrina couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. "We'll see."

And with that, she walked toward the Bee and Barb, ready for a warm meal and a cold drink. She would need to discuss joining the Guild with Lydia, but in all honesty, something told her she'd already made up her mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I apologize for the long time between updates, but it shouldn't be that way from here on out. Thanks for reading and for all of the kind reviews! They really mean a lot, and I hope to see you next time!


	3. The Past Will Never Change

Lydia was still in their room by the time Colrina made it back to the Bee and Barb. Thankfully, she'd long since woken up, and she smiled when Colrina gently pushed the door open. Colrina could only return it half-way. Almost immediately, Lydia picked up on her sense of discomfort and stopped tightening the straps on her boots. 

"Is there something wrong, my Thane?" She asked.

Colrina winced and glanced over her shoulder. "You're doing it again, Lydia," she said in a low voice. "Remember what I told you? Call me Col."

"Of course." Lydia nodded, then gave Colrina a level stare. "But you didn't answer my question."

Briefly, Col considered leaving everything out, not telling Lydia a lick of what had happened. In all honesty, keeping the idea of joining the Thieves Guild to herself didn't sound like a bad concept. There was no doubt in her mind that her housecarl wouldn't take too kindly to anything... less than honorable. But, as much as she hated to admit it, Colrina owed Lydia an explanation. Lydia had not only risked her life to get them both to safety, she'd also left Whiterun behind, the only home she'd ever known. 

Although Col considered herself more of a loner, she had to admit that she was grateful for her housecarl's presence... and that she felt responsible for what happened to her. So leaving her in the dark about the Thieves Guild was absolutely out of the question. Col could only hope that she would understand. Then again, knowing Lydia, that hope sounded extremely far-fetched. She practically bled honor. And running with a gang of thieves, who, last Colrina checked, left honor in the mud? That was the opposite of Lydia's ideals.

"We'll talk about it over food and some mead," Col eventually said, motioning with her hand for her housecarl to follow her. "I think we both could use a hot meal."

Lydia eyed her warily, but said nothing as she tightened the last strap on her steel boot and stood. The two of them walked downstairs, and Colrina immediately went to the counter to buy their food. After she'd placed their order, she quickly crossed to the table Lydia had chosen, thankfully in the far corner of the room. She sank heavily into her chair, grimacing at the pull on her wound. A healing potion, however small, was definitely in her future.

"Where'd you get the gold?" Lydia quietly asked. "I thought we--"

"We did," Colrina interrupted, looking anywhere but her housecarl's eyes. "I... got us some more."

Lydia's faced morphed from confused to concerned, and then to cautious. She gave Col a look, one that clearly wasn't happy. "What did you do?"

Once again, Col considered lying. And once again, she decided against it. "Remember the man who came up to me yesterday? The Nord with the red hair?"

Realization dawned on her housecarl's face, and she narrowed her eyes into slits. "You told me he wanted you to steal something."

The accusation in Lydia's voice was infuriating. It took all Colrina had not to snap at her. Fighting among themselves wouldn't get them anywhere. If anything, it would only add to the danger in which they were both drowning. So instead, Colrina brought her fingers to her head and massaged her temples.

"I did what I had to, Lydia," she explained, miraculously unashamed. She finally gave her housecarl a glare. "A little gratitude would be nice."

"Gratitude?" Lydia's voice rose an octave, but not high enough for anyone else to hear. She swallowed, apparently trying to get herself back under control. "How can I have gratitude for something like this?"

Colrina clenched her jaw. "Because we would've  _starved._ " Her voice came out in a hiss, but she was too angry to care. "Damn it, we needed the gold! What was I supposed to do?"

"Find another way!" Lydia snarled. "Divines' sake, Col, you swore to  _help_  people, not steal from them!"

As soon as the words left her housecarl's mouth, Colrina knew there was no going back to the way things were. She glowered at her, lips curling above her teeth, subconsciously exposing them. Her blood boiled. Red splotches swam into her vision, but somehow, she managed to swallow her fury. The dangerous part of it, for that matter. 

"That was the past," she deadpanned. "That was with the Companions. And if you've got a shred of common sense, you won't bring them up again. You understand?" 

Lydia stared at her, eyes wide in an almost comical fashion. For a brief moment, Colrina considered apologizing, considered saying that Lydia was right, that she was  _always_  right. But the words died on her lips before she even opened her mouth. For, and Col knew this beyond a shadow of a doubt, her housecarl  _wasn't_  right. Not about this. Doing the honorable thing would get them nowhere, save for maybe an early grave. Col didn't give up easily--never had. And, in all honesty, her honor died when she left the Companions. Somehow she knew it wouldn't come back.

But Lydia apparently couldn't accept that. She sighed and shook her head, giving Colrina a look that would've burned, had she not been expecting it. 

"I'll have no part in this," Lydia murmured as an Argonian--Talen-Jei, if Col remembered correctly--set their food in front of them. "I swore an oath to protect you, but I can't protect you from yourself."

 _You're not protecting me,_  Colrina thought, reaching for her bottle of mead.  _You're abandoning me. Just like everyone else._

She didn't say as much, though she wanted to. "Then go back to Whiterun," Col said, careful to keep her voice clipped. She met her housecarl's eyes with a dry expression. "If that's what you really want."

Lydia sighed again and pushed her food away. "Whatever you say,  _my thane_." She stood and tucked her chair in, giving Colrina her best glare. "I wish you the best."

The hard bite in her tone took the meaning out of her last sentence. Colrina narrowed her eyes, but said nothing. Normally, she would've died before not having the last word, but there was nothing left to say. As Lydia left the tavern, Col stared at her food, suddenly not hungry. Her stomach felt too twisted to hold anything down. Instead, she sipped at her mead. She tried to tell herself that Lydia leaving was a good thing, that she would only slow her down, but already, she could feel loneliness creeping through her veins. After everything they'd been through together, this was how they parted ways. 

Colrina pressed her lips together and blinked rapidly to stall tears. She glanced toward Keerava, who watched her with an expression that bordered on pitiful. Standing, Colrina walked over to the counter and leaned heavily against it, trying her best to appear unfazed--and failing.

"Know of anyone else in need of a meal?" She asked, motioning with her head toward her and Lydia's food, growing colder by the second. "I'm actually not as hungry as I thought."

Keerava flicked her tongue. "You could try Edda," she rasped. "That one's always looking for handouts."

"Thanks." Colrina stepped away from the counter. "She out in the market?"

The Argonian nodded, then turned her back to stir something in a large cooking pot. Col walked back to her table, grabbed the food, and quickly headed outside. Edda was easy to spot, and she thanked Colrina profusely when she accepted the charity. Colrina gave her half a nod of acknowledgment. 

"I do have a favor to ask," she murmured, resting her back against the stone wall surrounding the market. "You don't really have to do anything, though. I just need to know where the Ratway is."

Edda eyed her with an unreadable expression as she licked her fingers. "Beneath the city, down on the lower walkway," she revealed. "Not a good place."

 _I didn't think it would be,_  Colrina thought, but thanked her anyways. "You've been a big help."

The beggar said nothing, merely went back to eating. Colrina left her to it. As she made her way toward a set of stairs, the morning mist finally dissipated, and rays of sunshine gently brushed her pallid skin. She sighed, ignoring the warmth.  _One thing at a time. Focus on the Ratway. You can fall apart later._

She reached the iron gate that clearly led to the sewers. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Colrina pushed it open and carefully shut it behind her. She didn't want anyone to know where she was going. Thankfully, Edda didn't seem quite stable enough to blab her location to a guard, and Lydia was already long gone. Colrina could only hope that her housecarl (or former housecarl, for that matter) wouldn't say a word about her location. As much as she wanted to trust Lydia, Col had learned the hard way that she couldn't trust anyone. Not anymore. Not after everything that had happened.

 _I can't believe I'm doing this,_ she thought as she opened a wooden door and stepped into the tunnels.  _Divines, I hope I'm not making a mistake._  

* * *

The inside of the sewers were, unsurprisingly, about as filthy as Colrina expected. She stayed low to the ground, careful not to make too much noise. She didn't know who was down here, nor what kind of danger to expect. Hopefully, she wouldn't run into too much trouble. That being said, she could almost immediately tell that her hopes would be dashed. Already, she heard voices--and they didn't sound friendly. Keeping to the shadows, Colrina crept ever closer to a light in the darkness. 

"I don't know, Draff," someone said. "They'd skin us alive if they knew we were doing this."

Colrina drew her dagger, wincing at the sound of the metal scraping against the sheath. Thankfully, whoever stood ahead of her didn't seem to hear. She inched forward, tiny steps lithe and quiet. Although she didn't know if these people would attack her on sight, she didn't know if she wanted to take that chance. They certainly sounded dangerous. Nevertheless, she held her weapon at ready. 

But luck, it seemed, wasn't going to stay on her side. As she neared the light, Colrina stepped on something (a bone?) that made a stomach-churning, ear-splitting  _crack._  She froze, praying to whatever Divine was listening that no one heard it. 

"What was that?" One of the voices said, destroying any hope Colrina had had left. "Is... is someone there?"

There was no sense in trying to hide; no place in the tunnels would suffice. Steeling herself, Colrina leaped out of the shadows and threw herself on to one of her assailants. She caught him off-guard, plunging the dagger into his throat. Blood sprayed into her face. Rolling off of him and taking her weapon with her, she got to her feet just in time to block a blow from the other attacker. He was strong, and the clash of steel reverberated painfully up her arm, but she was alive. 

With a guttural shout, Colrina braced herself against the wall, then launched forward, slashing with her dagger and catching her opponent in the ribs. He cried out, favoring his side, which gushed with fresh blood. He swung his sword at her, but the attack was significantly weaker. Colrina easily dodged it and slashed again, this time cutting the tops of his hands. He screamed and dropped the sword, but amazingly still had enough strength to fight back. He lunged, tackling Colrina to the ground. Her dagger clattered to the floor somewhere behind her head. 

Her assailant wrapped his bleeding hands around her throat, squeezing with enough pressure to cut off her air supply. Colrina blindly groped for her dagger. Black spots began to seep into her vision, and she bucked, trying to throw him off of her. But he weighed too much. As her vision further darkened, her fingers closed around the hilt of something. Exactly what, she didn't know, but she grabbed it and swung with everything she had left. 

The sword cut through the flesh of her assailant's neck like butter. It only stopped when it reached bone. He made a wet, gurgling sound, then slid sideways. Colrina gasped in a deep breath and coughed, blessed, cool air rushing into her lungs. Rolling over on to her side, she waited until her vision cleared, then stood. She stared down at the two corpses. The irony wasn't lost on her about her second assailant--killed by his own blade. 

Colrina hunted down her dagger, wiped it clean, then slid it into its sheath. Somehow, she knew there were more enemies further into the tunnels. She would have to take a different approach, unless she wanted to fight hand-to-hand again. Drawing her bow, Colrina proceeded further into the sewers. There was a ledge, one that if she jumped off of, she wouldn't be able to return. Not easily, anyways. But, the way she saw it, she didn't have much more to lose. She carefully dropped from the ledge, then crept over to a ray of light that shone from a corner of the room. 

The rest of the enemies she came across were relatively easy to take care of, compared to the first two. No one was expecting an arrow to the back, nor were they expecting it to come out of the shadows. There were more places for her to hide, more places where the darkness was stronger than anywhere else. Colrina couldn't deny that she felt more comfortable there, and not just because it provided her with a strong hiding place. She didn't know why, but there wasn't necessarily a ready explanation. Not that there ever was. Sometimes, she just felt a certain way about a situation, an object, or a person. Call it a gut-feeling, call it intuition. All she knew was that she couldn't ignore it--and never would.

As she killed the last assailant in the sewers, she reached a wooden door, leading to what had to be The Ragged Flagon. Rolling her shoulders back and taking a deep breath, she stepped through it. Immediately, the scent of fresh baked bread and strong mead wafted into her nose. She inhaled and tried to keep her stomach from growling. Colrina placed her bow on to her back and walked toward a cluster of people, knowing instantly that they wouldn't attack her. This was it. This was The Ragged Flagon, if the sign she passed was any telltale signal. 

"I'm telling you," a voice with a signature accent murmured, almost too low for her to hear, "this one's different."

Colrina frowned and withdrew to the shadows, wanting to hear more of the conversation. 

"We've all heard that one before, Bryn," came a gravelly response, and with a jolt, Colrina realized they were talking about her. 

"Just give her a chance." The closer Colrina crept, the more she saw of Brynjolf's face--and he looked a bit irritated with his companions. "She'll be here."

The bartender, who wiped his counter in practiced, methodical circles, scoffed. "You've been saying that for a while."

Colrina, deciding that she'd heard enough, stepped out of the shadows. As she walked toward the group, leather boots ringing against the stone floor, she plastered a smirk on to her face. "Last time I checked," she said, brushing her braid behind her shoulders, "you didn't give me a time limit."

Brynjolf's expression lifted, and he smiled widely before going to meet her. "Have to admit, I'm impressed, Lass. Not an easy feat to make it through the Ratway." His eyes zeroed in on her wounded side. "Unscathed, that is."

"It's old," Colrina dismissed, though the wound itself was oozing fresh blood. She must have reopened it during her first scuffle. "I'll get a healing potion later."

"Reliable and headstrong, eh?" Brynjolf folded his arms across his chest, though he still looked happy. "You're quite the prize."

Colrina shrugged, though she felt the corners of her lips twitching at the praise. "I made it here in one piece. What's next?"

Brynjolf looked her over, then, apparently having decided she was ready, told her about the next task: "See, there're a few deadbeats who owe our organization some serious coin. And they've decided not to pay up..." 

* * *

Colrina took care of the "deadbeats" easily, with a few tips from Brynjolf, of course. She decided that she would save Keerava for last, considering the Argonian had been nothing but kind to her. Starting out with Haelga, she worked her way to Bersi, and finally to the innkeeper, who didn't even need convincing in the end. Colrina collected the gold and, tempted as she was to spend some of it, brought it back to Brynjolf. 

"If there's more where this came from," she admitted, plopping the coinpurses on the counter in the Ragged Flagon, "then you can count me in." 

He looked up from his mug of ale, a smirk on his face as he eyed the gold. "Jobs done, you did it clean, and you even brought what I asked for." His eyes twinkled mischievously. "I'd say you've done more than just earn your keep here." He suddenly frowned as something apparently occurred to him. "But before we go any further, I'll need to know something."

Colrina leaned against the bar and tried not to look uneasy. "What is it?"

"Your name, Lass."

She went rigid. It wasn't safe for her to reveal herself, not with the Companions likely on her heels, but something told her Brynjolf would all-too-easily see through a lie. But she couldn't tell him the truth, lest she wanted to risk him ratting her out. Swallowing the bile that rose in her throat, Colrina did her best to appear nonchalant. 

"Call me Col," she eventually said, deciding that a nickname was only half a lie. "And I'd rather not go any further than that, if that's alright."

Brynjolf's frown deepened, but he nodded and thankfully dropped the subject. Colrina let out a barely audible breath. While she knew it was only a temporary fix, temporary was all she could afford right now. She would worry about details and keeping up a lie later. At the moment, all she wanted was a healing potion and a safe place to rest her head. And, judging by the Guild's reputation, there wouldn't be a safer place in all of Skyrim. 

"Alright then," Brynjolf said. "Col it is." He smiled at her and motioned for her to follow him. "Now, come with me. I'll show you the rest of what we're all about."

Biting back a  _"there's more,"_  Colrina walked behind him as he made his way to what looked like a storage closet. Brynjolf flashed a grin at her, then opened the back panel, revealing a hidden doorway. Colrina kept her face carefully blank. There was no sense in letting anything through just yet. She didn't know if she was even going to stay in the Guild (though the gold was certainly a decent incentive). 

As Brynjolf led er through another door, one that led into a cistern, Colrina tried not to wrinkle her nose. A musty smell hung in the air like smoke. It made sense, considering they were in a sewer, but that didn't mean she liked it. 

"It may not be Solitude," Brynjolf admitted, slowing his pace so she could catch up to him, "but it suits us just fine."

Colrina glanced his way with a small smirk. "It'll do."

He huffed out a laugh, then guided her toward the center of the room, where a ray of light shone down from what must've been the well in the market. 

"Go and have a chat with Mercer." He motioned toward an angry-looking man standing behind a desk. "I have some business to take care of. We'll talk later."

He left not two seconds after that. Colrina suddenly felt her confidence waning. Nevertheless, she swallowed her rising apprehension and walked toward Mercer, the man who had to be the Guildmaster. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and for all the kudos and kind reviews! They really mean a lot to me. I'll try to have the next chapter up by next week.
> 
> -Nopride4531 (Thievesguildbest)


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